Finding You
by Silverneko9lives0
Summary: Post Supernatural. Claire Novak wants to know what happened to her father. She becomes a hunter and looks for Sam and Dean, who know more than they're telling her. Not my best work, but decided to post it anyway.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The motorcycle's roar lowers to a growl until the girl turned it off. She swung her leg over the side, dismounting and taking off her helmet, but not the sunglasses.

She is dressed in carpenter jeans and a button plaid shirt covered by a leather jacket. Her small feet are covered by brown rodeo boots. Her hands are dressed in fingerless gloves. Her nails are short and cracked. She wears no makeup on her face, save mascara and some gloss. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a braid.

A silver cross shines in the sunlight against her breast. On her wrist is a charm bracelet with various symbols: the cross, a rose, a star of David, a taiji, and a couple of useless charms like a cat and a heart and a flower.

But one was a star circled by a sun.

Removing her glasses, she entered the roadside bar and sat at the bench, leaning on the table with her elbow and her head propped up by her hand.

"What can I do you for?" The barkeep asked, a smile on his scrawny face.

"I'm looking for Garth," she said.

"Claire Novak?"

"You're Garth?" Claire asked, raising an eyebrow. "You don't look like a retired hunter."

"I'm not retired," he said. "I own the place. Need to have pocket money for travels, right?"

Claire shrugged. "What do you have for me?"

Garth grabbed a behind him and handed it to her. Claire opened it. "He's not in here."

"You said you wanted the Winchesters. That is Dean Winchester at a gas station in Nebraska."

"I know its Dean Winchester. And Sam's there behind him," she pointed at a shadow sitting in the black car, but where is Castiel."

"Castiel?"

Claire glanced at him. Garth didn't know about angels? Well, fine. Let him be oblivious. "Castiel is, for lack of a better word, their partner."

"Not everyone survives working with them."

"Isn't that true for every one of us," Claire stated, smirking at him. She stood and opened her wallet, handing Garth a couple hundred dollar bills. She walked out of the bar, fixing her glasses and helmet back on.

Her motorcycle roared to life and she headed to the minimart and gas station in Nebraska.

#

Dean yawned. Sam slept peacefully in the back seat, covering his eyes with a cowboy hat. He pulled into a motel and parked the car. Sam sat up, fixing his hat. "Why'd you pull over?"

"Need sleep," Dean said, getting out of the car. Sam followed after him, grumpily rubbing his eyes. He waited outside by the car while Dean got the room. A motorcycle pulled in around the same time. Sam watched the young girl curiously.

She was young. College student young. What was she doing here? Winter break wasn't for a few weeks. She looked at Sam who averted his gaze from her.

"You got old, Sam," she said, leaning against her motorcycle. Sam double backed at her.

"Do I know you?"

"I've changed quite a lot since we last met," she said, She removed her helmet. "Then again, we didn't meet. Castiel took over me for a few minutes to save your asses."

"Oh my God," Sam said, straightening. Dean exited the registration office. "Claire Novak?"

Dean paused and looked at Claire.

"Where's my father?" she asked.

The Winchesters stared at Claire. Sam looked at Dean, who couldn't bring himself to look away from Claire.

"Where is he?" she repeated.

"Claire, you didn't get into hunting because of Cas, did you?"

"Yes, I'm a hunter," she snapped. "You can't expect me not to be one after what happened to my family that night. It took a while and a lot of fucking research and practice, but I am a hunter. Now tell me where my dad is."

The brothers were silent for a long time. Finally, Sam spoke up.

"Dean, tell her."

Dean looked at Sam, who motioned to Claire with his head.

Dean sighed. "You don't want to know." He opened the trunk and pulled out a couple bags. "Trust me, Claire. It's best you don't know what happened to Cas."

"I'm not a child!" Claire shouted, lunging at Dean. Sam restrained her.

"And I don't think your dad would want you to know what happened to him," Dean said, closing the trunk. "I won't give you details, but your dad died seven years ago _with _Cas."

Claire stomped on Sam's foot and rammed her fist into his nose. Sam groaned, backing away. Claire seized Dean's shirt and pinned him against the Impala.

"You're lying!" she shouted, shaking Dean. "My dad isn't dead! Neither is Castiel!"

"Claire, I was there when he died. I tried to save him. He died fighting."

Sam furrowed his brow at Dean, which was a little hard to do with a bloody nose.

"Then why," Claire hissed, "do I feel so strongly that he's alive?"

"Claire, I saw him die. I'm sorry, but your intuition is wrong."

Claire released Dean and shoved him against the car again walking into the registration office.

"She doesn't believe you."

"She's pretty smart to not believe me."

"That's why I told you to tell her the truth," Sam snapped, taking his own bag from Dean. "Which room are we?"

Claire exited the office and glared at them. They went to their room. Once inside, they locked the door.

"Dean why didn't you tell her the truth?"

"If I told her the truth, she'd look for a way in. She's got that look."

Sam stared at Dean. "What look?"

"Remember when we were looking for Dad? It's the same look you had on your face that's on hers."

"You don't know that she'll run into Purgatory," Sam said.

"Would you have back then?"

"Yes, but…"

"She's lost someone, and it's not her dad. Maybe her mom. Maybe a boyfriend. It wasn't what happened that night that got her into the life."

Sam peered outside. Claire was outside her room, a cigarette in her mouth.

"Regardless what happened to get her into hunting, we exposed her to the life first. We made her. She deserves the truth, Dean. She's hardly a little girl anymore."

Dean snickered. "A little young for you, though, Sammy."

Sam closed the blinds. "Shut up, Jerk."

Dean smiled. "Bitch."

"I think we're getting a little old for childish insults, don't you?"

"Never."

#

_He's not dead. I can feel it_.

Claire blew the smoke out of her mouth, sighing.

_He's not dead_.

She saw shades move and looked at the room Sam and Dean had acquired. Did they think she was that easy to get rid of? She wasn't going anywhere without them until she got the truth out of Dean.

The earth quaked under her feet. She braced herself in the doorway, dropping her cigarette. The shaking stopped.

Sam and Dean exited their rooms. A black cloud rolled overhead.

"SHIT!" She heard Sam shout.

"THIS ISN'T GOOD!" Dean answered.

Claire stared at the black smoke, fingering her charm bracelet. For the last five or six years, there had been no sign of demonic activity. No one could explain it that well, but a lot of people guessed that somehow the demons had been banished from the earth and trapped back in hell.

One of the demons landed on the ground in the middle of the parking lot.

He took on corporeal form.

Claire stared at the demon, bewildered. Demons don't take corporeal form. They can't without possessing someone. But this demon took on corporeal form without possessing anyone here. (Not that he could.)

"Ah!" he said, "it's good to be back!"

Red eyes stared at Claire then shifted, looking for others. He spotted Sam and Dean. "Hello, boys," he said. "Long time no see."

He blinked and his red eyes turned to the normal black eyes that the corporeal body owned.

"Strange, isn't it?" he said, approaching them. "We weren't able to do this before, right? Most of them still can't."

"Crowley."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"I'd say it's good to see you, but then I'd be lying," Crowley said, smirking. "After all, you trapped me in Hell."

"And the rest of the mother—"

"Language, Dean," Crowley snapped. "There's a lady present."

Claire joined them.

Crowley stared at her with an evil gleam. "Little young for you boys, don't you think."

"And you're an asshole pervert demon," Claire stated, glaring at Crowley. He stared at her, somewhat taken aback.

"Spunky," he said. "Where'd you find her?"

"How did you get out?"

"Beats me. Someone must have opened a devil's gate."

"Impossible," Sam said, seizing Crowley's jacket and shaking him. "Those gates are supposed to be permanently closed."

"Well, yes, about that, Moose," Crowley said, pushing Sam off him and dusting his coat as though it got a little dirty. "It was closed. We were all trapped. We shouldn't have been able to get out at all."

"Then how?"

Crowley shrugged. "No one knows. It's not Lucifer or Michael. They're still in the cage. I doubt it was God, but someone opened the gates somehow. The spell you used, only an angel or something or someone stronger than an angel could have broken it."

Crowley backed away. "Till next time, boys." He said. Crowley looked at Claire again and smirked, "Same to you, Sweetheart." He vanished.

Claire looked at them. "Crowley?"

"Yep."

"He's a dick."

"A major dick," Dean agreed. "And we're screwed seven ways to hell."

"Why?" Claire asked.

"We're the ones who trapped them, with the help of a prophet."

"What kind of angel would want demons back?" Sam asked.

"I'm not thinking angels," Dean said heading into the room. Sam and Claire followed. "I think we're dealing with a leviathan."

"Leviathan?" Sam asked.

"Well, why not? They're the first creatures God created right? They're as strong as the angels, even stronger."

"I don't think leviathans would want the demons back," Sam said. "The less competition the better it is for them."

"Demon's aren't competition. The monsters however, they are."

"Still, why bring back demons?"

"I got a more disturbing question," Dean said, "how many demons can do what Crowley can do now? You know, go from gas to solid?"

"Does it matter?" Claire asked. They looked at her. "They're here again. You know how to send them back to Hell."

"We're not going to have another chance. They'll expect us to try again."

"Don't underestimate me," Claire hissed.

"This isn't about underestimating you," Dean said. "It has more to do with keeping you safe if anything. Crowley's gotten some sort of interest in you."

"So? He's a demon. I know a few exorcisms and how to draw a devil's trap."

"Good. You've got a defense."

"Which is the closest thing to an offense we got right now," Sam said. "When we banished all the demons back to hell, our only offensive weapon became completely useless." He dug through a bag and held out a broken dagger shaft. The blade had been completely destroyed. "We didn't think much of it, since there were no more demons to worry about."

Claire stared at the dagger. "But 'defense' worked out well enough for the most part."

"Yes, but we can't track down every demon that got out and send them back via exorcism. They'll come back eventually."

"Plus, seven years of rusty demon lore, a lot of hunters are in for a world of hurt."

"Then we give them a head's up," Claire said, pulling out her phone. "I'll call my contacts. How about you do the same?"

Claire left the room, dialing numbers as she did.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks again.

"Crowley was right about one thing," Dean said. "She's got a lot of spunk."

"Dude, Cas' daughter."

"Yeah, I know. Do you?" Sam glared at Dean. "Hey, at least she's legal."

"I thought you stopped trying to hook me up with women. Besides that is a fifteen year difference at least."

Dean blinked. "Bobby and Annie."

Sam narrowed his eyes at him. "Annie did the three of us, Dean. She doesn't count."

"Sam, c'mon, cute blonde chick who looks like Jess. You think I wouldn't notice?"

"Jess was seventeen years ago, Dean," Sam said, taking out his phone. "I healed. Besides, Claire is not Jess." He dialed a number and began warning all the hunters he could.

Dean shook his head. Sam wasn't that old, there was nothing wrong with getting it on with a girl as cute as Claire had become. He did remember her: the little preteen who ended up smiting a few demons when her family was attacked.

_The bad ass action from that night must have rubbed off on her_, he thought.

#

Claire pocketed her phone, having finished texting all her contacts. She debated whether to go back inside, see how the brothers fared. She decided against it and went back to her own room.

"A little rusty on demon warding, aren't you."

Claire turned around. Crowley smirked at her.

"What do you want?"

"A deal, Sweetheart. You're proximity to the brothers is advantageous for me."

"Only temporary." Claire crossed her arms. "I'm not helping you. I'm only sticking with them till they tell me what really happened to my dad."

"Hmm. Your dad? Perhaps we have an agreement. Spy on the Winchesters for me, and in return I'll find your father for you."

"Unless you know what happened to Castiel—"

Crowley's smirk vanished. "Castiel?" He stood. "Castiel is your father?"

"Castiel is _inside_ my father."

"You're never going to see him again in that case," he said. "Last I heard, Castiel, and your father, were stuck in purgatory."

Claire shook her head. "That's not true either."

"I promise you, I'm not lying. I saw him go. Dean went too. He escaped seven years ago and left his boyfriend behind to rot. So, Claire," Crowley said, staring at her again. It was disconcerting. "Do we have an agreement?"

"No. I don't believe you. He's alive and he's not in purgatory. Now get out of my room before I exorcise your ass back to Hell."

Crowley shrugged. He patted her shoulder as he left.

When the door closed behind him, Claire ran to the bathroom, fully intending to take a shower. Crowley didn't touch her skin, but damn! She felt dirty.

As the water beat against her skin, rolling off her back like beads, Claire thought about what she had been told so far.

What happened to her father?

Dead? Purgatory? Neither of them seemed right. But what if that was exactly right. What if her intuition was wrong and her father was dead or worse?

Claire wept, unable to hold herself in any longer.

#

Dean sat in the chair, downing a fifth of whiskey. Seven years had gone by since he thought about what happened that day in purgatory.

Cas screaming for his help. Benny holding him back as the Leviathans pulled Cas away.

He knew he'd have to own up to it eventually, but to have to own up to it now when demons have returned to walk the earth again.

And just as Claire Novak showed up demanding to know what happened to her dad.

In a way, Dean felt relieved. Demons were sometimes too easy to get rid of. Other times, they were damn difficult. And he'd been begging for a challenge.

"_Dean! Dean!"_

Dean closed his eyes and bowed his head, massaging his temple.

Sam stepped out of the bathroom.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," Dean said, straightening. "Nothing. A little tired, is all. It's been a long day."

Sam scoffed. "Tell me about it. Tell Claire the truth tomorrow."

"I can't." Dean said, taking another sip. "If I tell her the truth, she'll probably kill me. I just…left him there, Sam."

"Dean, it was not just Cas back there, but her father. She's come this far, tracked us down. The least we can do is tell her the truth."

"Then you tell her!" Dean shouted. "I can't look at that kid in the eyes knowing what I know."

Dean bowed his head again.

"_Dean! Dean!"_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

#Seven Years Ago#

"Hurry!" Benny shouted at them glancing behind only once to make sure they were keeping up.

Cas screamed. Dean turned around to see a claw sticking out of Cas' leg. A leviathan in its true form stood before them, over Cas, mouth open and growling.

It had no eyes. And its large mouth was smiling evilly, tongue lolling out and drool wetting its chin. It had large webbed feet, but its arms were sharpened into two large scythe like claws, not unlike a praying mantis.

"Dean!"

Dean jumped at them, but Benny cut him off and pulled him away. "No! Let me go!"

"We have to go or it will get us to!"

"Cas!"

"Dean! DEAN!"

#Present Day#

Dean bolted up in bed, breathing heavily. His shoulder, the old burn mark, ached. He grabbed it with his other hand, massaging it as best he could.

The bathroom door opened and Sam stepped out.

"Hey," Dean greeted.

"Good morning. Hungry?"

"Always," Dean said, smiling.

"All right," Sam said, fixing his hat on his head. "I'm going to go ask Claire if she'd like to join us."

"Why? The girl's probably gonna try breaking your nose again."

"And yesterday you were all about trying to hook me up with her," Sam muttered, loud enough for Dean to hear. The door closed behind him. Dean leaned back on the bed.

"I should have gone back for him," he mumbled to himself.

#

Sam knocked on Claire's door. She opened, fully dressed and her hair pulled back into a tight bun in the back.

"Yes?"

"We're going to breakfast in a few minutes. Would you like to come?"

"No thanks," she said, holding up a granola bar. "I'm set."

"I'm kind of surprised you'd call a snack bar breakfast."

"I rarely eat out," she said, taking a bite of the bar. "Besides, I like to save my money for my ride."

Sam nodded and turned to leave. He stopped. "Claire, can I ask about why you're looking for your dad?"

Claire stared at Sam, debating whether to open up. She opened her door a little wider and Sam entered, removing his hat. He sat at the table and she at the end of the bed. The door was left open.

"For ten or so years," she began, "I had to live without my dad because he felt called to participate in a holy war. And he was a good dad. Still was, as far as I could tell, even though my mom thought he was crazy that whole first year. I knew he wasn't. I could hear Castiel too.

"I thought it was brave of my dad to agree to be his vessel. That's why when Castiel asked me if I would be willing to lend my body to him, I said yes. I knew my dad was serving a good God and a higher purpose.

"But I missed him. I knew he was with you guys, so, as soon as I graduated High School, I started hunting. I just up and left. I believed that if I found you and Dean, I'd find my dad. And since I knew that you guys were hunters, I knew eventually we'd run into each other.

"But it was taking too long for my liking, so I thought I'd track you guys down."

She walked to the trash and tossed the wrapper in the garbage.

"So, I guess I just want to find my dad because I want to see him. See how he's doing." She leaned against the wall. "Why isn't my dad with you guys?"

"Dean knows better than I do."

"Well, he's not telling me anything."

"He feels guilty."

"Then he should tell me."

"He doesn't think telling you would help the situation."

"Why not? Do you know what happened?"

"Vaguely."

"Well, I'll take vague right now and I'll beat the details out of him later. Tell me what happened to my Dad, Sam."

Sam looked at Claire. She deserved to know what happened.

Someone knocked on the door. They looked at Dean.

"Who's up for breakfast?"

"Right," Sam said, standing.

"I just ate," Claire said, crossing her arms.

"Well, then, Claire," Dean said, smiling. "I'm sorry your trip to find your dad didn't have the outcome you wanted. Maybe next time, you can show us what you learned since we last met."

Claire grinned. "Oh, I'm not leaving. I know you're lying to me, Dean."

Dean's smile faltered. "Why would you think that?"

"Either you don't know what happened to my dad or you really think he's dead. Either way, you're either wrong or lying to me." She stood. "But I suppose you're leaving as soon as you've eaten, so I'll join you anyway, if just for coffee."

"I thought you liked to save money for gas," Sam stated.

"I usually do," she said, "But today, I think I could use a little caffeine," she said, striding past them, her helmet under her arm.

#

The unconscious man lay on the ground, covered in blood and muck. His hair and beard had grown long and full from years of isolation.

"Tie his hand and feet," Crowley commanded the demons he brought with him. They obeyed and hoisted the man off the ground. Leaner than he used to be, the man was easy to pick up. They vanished with him to a place where the man could be kept safe.

#

"Sam," Dean mumbled. "Why's she staring at me?"

Claire had not stopped staring at Dean since they ordered their food. It was a disconcerting and angry stare.

"Maybe because you won't tell her the truth about her dad," Sam suggested. "Just tell her all ready."

"No."

"Dean…"

"Can't you get her off my back?"

"Not going to happen," Sam said finishing his own breakfast. He didn't think it'd be good to tell Dean that he was going to give her an idea of what happened to her dad. He still intended to.

"So, where are we headed?"

"Well, we need to get that spell working again. It's the only way to do get rid of the demons again."

"Really? Get rid of them?"

"Hey—"

"I'm sorry. Killing monsters is second nature now. I want a challenge."

"Those demons will rip you to shreds. You've never fought them before. Let the veterans take care of them."

"You mean you two old men?"

"We're not old!" Dean snapped.

"Right. And I'm a baby."

"You _are _a baby, Claire."

"And how old were you two when you got into hunting? Didn't Sam grow up a hunter?"

They stared at her, bewildered. "I did my research. It was quite entertaining and honoring to find myself in the _Supernatural_ comic books."

"You read those damn books?"

"It was cute," Claire said in her defense. "Besides, the series ends after Sam sacrifices himself and goes in the cage."

They exchange looks with each other and shrug. At least the series didn't extend that much further than there.

"But you know, I think it's more important to find out who opened the devil's gate and find out how, in the meantime, hunting down as many demon bastards as we can. Especially the pervert ones."

"You really don't like Crowley, do you?" Sam asked, smirking a little.

"The way he looks at me and talks to me makes my skin crawl."

"That's understandable," Dean said, picking up his coffee cup and downing it. "Crowley's a master at making people feel uncomfortable. Especially homophobes."

Claire stared at him.

"What?"

"We should start with the devil's gate in particular. It came from eastward as far as I can tell. Maybe we can pinpoint it. I mean, a large fast moving storm cloud isn't exactly common. It's probably all over the news."

"Well, that will be easy," Sam said, pointing at the television, announcing that there were odd storms in Columbus, Ohio that moved rapidly from there to Seattle, Washington.

#

The man groaned and sat up.

"How are you doing?" Crowley asked. The man focused and looked at him. He tried to stand, but his hand and feet were bound. "No need to be startled, Castiel."

"Where am I?"

"Welcome home, Angel. This is America. And thank you for letting us out."

"I didn't let anyone out," Castiel shouted. "Just myself."

"You let out much more than just yourself," Crowley said, sitting on the couch's arm. "You let _us_ out in your escape."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Dean parked the Impala outside the cemetery in the middle of Columbus. Claire parked her bike next to them.

"This way," Dean said to her. He and Sam walked to the center of the cemetery where a mausoleum stood with the Latin phrase _Ostio ad Mortuum_ etched above the doors, which had been broken down.

"Damn it," Sam muttered.

"What?"

"This is it," Dean said. "This is where we locked them all away."

"Seven years ago?"

"Yes."

"Those doors were busted open," Claire stated. "Those are pure iron doors."

"Pure iron doors, layered in salt and a binding spell," Sam said examining the doors. "No demon was getting out of Hell from anywhere thanks to this specific location. And they weren't just busted, they were rammed down. This specific location is useless now."

"Yeah, we weren't going to be able to use it again anyway," Dean said, squatting so better to examine the ground.

"What are you looking for?" Claire asked, crossing her arms.

"Something that might help us figure out what happened."

"Like…"

"I'll let you know."

"Well, what about the patch of ground you're standing on?"

Dean looked up. "What about it?"

"It's discolored. Most of the grass around here is green. Cemeteries are as well kept as gardens. There shouldn't be any brown patches. Let alone black and brown."

Dean stood and approached Claire.

"Well I'll be damned," he said.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"When I escaped purgatory with Benny," Dean said, "The ground I showed up on turned that color of brown. Someone got out of purgatory."

Sam stood on Claire's other side to see the brown patch.

"What could have done it?"

"Don't know," Dean said. "Only humans can get out of Purgatory. The only way monsters can is if the human is willing to be a monster taxi back to this world."

"So…a human got out."

"Unless someone ganked another Leviathan I can't imagine it happening. And it took me a year and a willing partner to help me get out. It's not possible."

"Well, Dean," Claire pointed at the patch. "Someone did. And when they did, it blew open the devil's gate and it happened _last night_."

"Ironically," Dean said, "when you pounced on us, Blondie."

"_Blondie_? Oh, that's original," Claire scoffed. "Have you ever acted your age?"

"Well…" Sam began.

"Don't answer that, Sam," Dean warned.

"Well, regardless," Claire said, "the news report said that the cloud was moving Westward toward and covered the West coast, congregating especially in the Seattle area. So, that's my route. So unless you decide to come along or come clean, this is where we say goodbye."

Claire walked back toward her bike.

"What?" Dean asked. She turned around.

"I'm going to Seattle."

"Which is crawling with demons at this point?"

"Where else are we going to get answers?"

Claire turned around and continued on her way.

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at Dean. Dean looked at him. Sam arched his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Dean…"

"Fine, we'll go with her."

"That's not what I meant."

"I'm not telling her anything."

"Who are you trying to lie to?" Sam asked walking behind him. "Claire or yourself?"

"Don't do the Dr. Phil thing, Sam," Dean warned. "I will punch you if you do."

"Just tell her what you know!"

"Sam!" Dean shouted. "I can't, all right? I can't even look her in the eye without thinking of Cas. If I tell her what happened, she's going to ask the same questions he'd ask if he did live that day. I don't know what's telling her he's alive, but whatever it is, it's dead wrong."

"Did you actually see him die?"

"Well, no."

"Then how do you know he's dead?"

Dean didn't answer at first. Claire had already left. Sam and Dean climbed into the Impala. "He was caught by a leviathan, Sam," Dean said. "It had him in its claws. I wanted to save him, but—"

Sam shook his head. "You just left him?"

Dean slammed the steering wheel.

"Well, that makes sense."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I get it."

"Do you?" Dean snapped. "Then stop telling me to tell her the truth." The engine purred to life and they left the cemetery, heading to Seattle.

#

Castiel stared at his hands. His once long and broken nails had been trimmed and manicured. It felt odd and so wrong.

He felt his face again. It felt cold and almost disgusting not having something on it.

Although, being reintroduced to the razor was one of his more pleasant experiences since being taken prisoner—or rescued, as Crowley liked to put it.

He didn't like the feel his new clothes had on him at the moment, but he hadn't worn slacks and button up shirts and ties in years so he tried to give them a chance.

He at least wanted his trench coat back.

The door opened and two demons entered. One held his coat. It was set down on the chair while the second demon left a tray of food for him.

They went to leave the room. Castiel vanished and appeared in front of them.

"It'd be best to let us leave, for your sake, Castiel."

"I want to talk to Crowley."

"Crowley will speak with you when the time suits him. Not when it suits you."

Castiel narrowed his eyes at the demon and seized him by the shirt. "Bring Crowley to me _now_."

The bindings on his arms sparked and crackled. Castiel winced and released the demon.

"Remember, Angel. You need to behave," the demon said. They strode past him out the door.

Castiel picked up the tray and threw it against the wall.

The spell on his wrists shocked him again and he grunted. As they linked together, forming shackles.

He breathed deeply, bracing himself.

So long as he didn't try to resist, the shackles wouldn't hurt him.

Oh well.

Castiel pulled and the shackles crackled and smoked, electrocuting him as he tried.

Grunting, growling, and gritting his teeth, Castiel kept pulling on the binding. The electricity lit the room, and shots of lightening rammed against the walls, scorching the interior decorating.

The more Castiel pulled, the more electricity sailed out from his wrists, burning his skin. With a grunted scream, the shackles broke.

Castiel lost his balance for a moment. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed his coat, throwing it over his shoulders, stringing his arms through the sleeves.

The doors opened and his guards ran to try and suppress him again.

Castiel seized their foreheads and slammed them against the wall. They screamed as they imploded. He released them and they slumped to the ground. Castiel walked out of the room, hand stuffed in his coat pockets.

Any demon that tried to stop him ended up smote.

#

"_How _is it possible for him to have walked out the room?!" Crowley shouted at the demons, "_How _did he break those shackles?! Have you any buggering idea what's been unleashed by letting him get out?! Find Castiel and bring him back! I want my leverage!"

The demons save one left.

"Couldn't we capture the girl?" she asked.

Crowley narrowed his eyes at the she-demon. He chuckled. "Meg, Meg, Meg," he said, grabbing her shoulders. "Castiel doesn't care about the girl. He won't come for her."

Crowley released Meg.

Meg watched him go before she herself joined the hunt for Castiel.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Claire pulled into a church and walked inside. She crossed herself and sat down in one of the pews, folding her hands and bowing her head.

"Oh, God, our Father," she began, "Thank You for everything—this day, this hour. I thank You for Your strength which is so much greater than mine. I thank You for Your patience and perseverance in this time of trial. Father God, I found the Winchesters and I have asked them about my dad. Either they don't know something or they're lying to me. But Father God, I _know_ my dad's alive. I know he's okay. I just want to find him. It's been so hard since…since my mom died. I forever need your help, but Father God, I ask for help again to find my dad and protect him wherever he is. A—"

The door banged open.

Claire stood, startled out of her prayer.

The man wore a khaki trench coat. He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

Claire's mouth opened and she left the pew.

He looked at her and furrowed his brow. "I know you, don't I?"

"Daddy?"

"I am not your father, but I know you."

"Castiel. It's me, Claire. Jimmy's daughter."

Castiel coughed. "I see it now." He collapsed losing consciousness.

"Castiel!" Claire shouted, running over and trying to wake him. "Castiel!"

#

Dean and Sam pulled up to the church and parked the Impala. Claire opened the door for them. "I'd have carried him out, but I don't exactly have the upper body strength."

"Oh my God!" Sam interrupted.

Dean stared at Castiel, unable to speak a word.

"How did you find him?"

"He just walked in here," Claire said. "Are you gonna help me get him to the hotel or not?"

Sam picked Castiel up, throwing an arm around his neck and hoisting him up with the other arm wrapped around Castiel's waist.

Dean kept his eyes glued to Castiel, as though unable to process what he was seeing.

"Dean?" Sam asked. "You okay?"

Dean scoffed. "I'm anything but okay. Just give me a minute." Sam and Claire exchanged looks and dragged Castiel out of the room.

"What was that about?" Claire asked.

"Well," Sam looked at the church, wondering if he ought to tell Claire. He figured she deserved to know. "Cas and Dean…had a thing a few years ago."

"But he's in my dad's body," Claire stated.

"Yeah."

"I'm normally indifferent to that sort of thing, but knowing that Castiel and Dean were together is creepy."

"Tell me about it," Sam said, putting Castiel in the back seat.

"It's not as creepy for you," Claire snapped. "I just got dumped with what I could have lived without knowing."

"Relax, there was no…fornication, as far as I can tell. It was more a bromance, but usually strayed pretty damn close to romance at times. If there was anything, neither of them realized it. Or at least Dean didn't until Cas wasn't around anymore."

"Castiel is in my dad, who as far as I know is straight. But more importantly, why did Dean think my Dad was dead?"

"Well, I believe we're all about to find out," Sam said, closing the door. "I'm getting Dean. Do you want to meet us at the motel?"

"Sure," Claire said, approaching her bike.

Sam returned to the church as she sped away. "Dean?" he said. "It's time to go."

Dean was sitting in one of the pews.

"Dean," Sam said, sitting next to him. "We'll find out what happened. And whatever did happen, it wasn't your fault."

"Don't," Dean said. "You didn't leave him to be leviathan fodder."

"Dean, he lived. He got out."

"And that makes it any better?"

Sam couldn't answer him. Of course it didn't make it better, but couldn't Dean just be relieved that Castiel survived without having to go through the guilt trip?

"Come on, we should get back to the motel or Claire will bite our heads off. I'll drive."

Sam stood and Dean followed.

#

They put Castiel on the couch.

"Now what?" Claire asked.

"We wait," Sam said, "he'll wake up eventually." Dean sat on the bed a beer bottle in his hand, staring at the couch. Claire leaned against the wall.

"Well, we know how the Devil's Gate was broken," Sam said, looking at Dean. "Like old times, right?"

"Shut up."

"I'm sure there's an explanation."

"There always is," Dean took a swig from the bottle.

"Dean, let's at least hear him out."

Claire watched the exchange curiously, but didn't press to get answers. She figured they'd come as soon as Castiel could tell them anything.

Sam left once to get them food.

When he returned, Castiel woke. He sat up and looked around.

"Sam."

"Hey, Cas."

Castiel turned around and spotted Dean. "Hello, Dean."

"Hi, Cas."

His eyes darted around the room. "I suppose you all want answers to what had happened since we last saw each other."

"That's an understatement," Claire said.

"If you're able to tell us then do so, but only when you're ready," Sam said. "I mean, you collapsed the moment you found Claire. Why?"

"A church was the safest place I could think of to escape the demons after me. Are the—"

"Every corner is salted," Sam assured him. "And a devil's trap under the rug outside. No demon's getting in here."

Castiel leaned back on the couch, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Do you want something to eat or drink?"

"No, thank you, I am well."

"You're sure?"

"Thank you for your concern, Sam, but I am as fine as I can be in this situation. I understand that the demons had been trapped in Hell forever and that my return to this world somehow thwarted your efforts again."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. Sam nodded. "It did."

"There are no words to express how sorry I am. It isn't something I would have ever intentionally done to you. So I will help send them back to Perdition."

"Cas, you seem strung out."

"Crowley's after me."

"The pervert?" Claire asked.

Castiel smiled. "I find that adjective somewhat accurate."

Claire arched her eyebrows.

"You get used to it," Dean assured her.

"I hope so."

"Regardless, if he's after me, he will find you all."

"Chances are he already knows you're with us," Sam said.

"Did my dad get out of Purgatory with you?" Claire asked.

Castiel shook his head. "It was his last act. We got out together, he gave me his body to use and we parted ways. Your father's soul is at peace, Claire, in heaven."

Claire paled, her skin turning almost light grey. She shivered and then flushed with great rage. "You're lying. You have to be lying."

"I would never lie to you, Claire. Jimmy wanted to survive long enough to see you and your mother again, but it was not to be so. I am so, so sorry, Claire."

Claire stormed out of the room.

Sam stood and followed her.

"Claire?"

"Why does everyone keep saying my dad is dead?"

Sam approached her. Claire wiped away the tears that leaked out of her eyes, but more spilled out. He sighed and embraced her. "It's going to be harder before it gets easier."

"How do you know?"

"That's exactly how it was for me and Dean when our dad died. Claire, you'll get through this. You don't have to go through it alone."

Claire pushed Sam off gently. She walked to her bike and put her helmet on.

As she sped away, Sam wondered if what he said actually helped.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"What happened?" Dean asked. Sam had left to get more food (with a strict order to get _pie_, not cake).

Castiel shrugged. "It's kind of all a blur."

"Try to remember."

Castiel looked at Dean.

#Seven Years Ago#

"Leave him!" Benny shouted, grabbing Dean's arm. "There's nothing we can do for him now!"

"Dean!" Cas shouted. "DEAN!" They did not return. Cas looked up at the leviathan and grabbed a sharp, makeshift sword. He cut the head off and the creature collapsed. Castiel tried not to scream again as the claw in his leg twisted. He readjusted so to pull it out.

Once free, he tore a sleeve off the ward's provided t-shirt into a bandage, tying it around his bleeding leg. He fixed the coat and went after Dean and Benny—damn vampire, Castiel thought with a vow to kill him.

A roar behind him alerted him that the leviathan was back together again and coming after him. Castiel slipped and fell into fowl smelling mud—at least he hoped it was mud. The leviathan stepped closer and he held his breath. Its tongue slithered in and out, looking for him.

It left, roaring angrily.

Castiel opened his eyes, staring at the leaving leviathan. Castiel stood and raced for the river, all interest in finding Dean and Benny gone.

While he washed his hands and face, his shoes and socks left on the shore, Castiel heard a small voice in the back of his head.

"_Castiel…Castiel!"_

"I hear you," Castiel said. "Who is this?"

"_You could at least remember my name since you're in my body."_

"Jimmy."

"_You heard what they said. Can we get out?"_

"I don't know."

"_Castiel, we can't stay here. If there's any hope at all of getting out we have to try."_

Castiel stared at his choppy reflection in the moving water. "Okay."

#Present Day#

Dean stared at Castiel, shocked. "And this is the first time you heard Jimmy in…what?"

"Twelve, maybe thirteen years. Not since the day I temporarily took Claire's body. It's as though he was there, but he was only silent until now. It took us a lot longer to figure out how to get out of Purgatory than it did you and Benny."

Dean bowed his head.

"It was seven years ago, Dean. I forgave you long ago. You and Benny. I understand. I would have made the same choice in that situation."

"But it wasn't the choice I made. Benny made it for me. I would have stayed and helped you."

"Then it was good Benny was there."

"You survived."

"By relying on myself. I had forgotten how to do so. It was good. In so many ways, we both became co-dependent on each other. It wasn't healthy for either of us. It was hard learning to rely on myself again—"

Castiel looked at the door and stood.

"What is it?"

The door burst open. A woman stood in the doorway. Dark red, slightly spiky, hair came to her shoulders. Baby blue eyes smirked at them.

"A trap under the rug? Really? Have you boys gotten sloppy since I've been gone?"

"Meg."

"Hey, Clarence," Meg said, grinning. She entered the room and sat at the table. "How have you boys been getting on, Dean?"

"Well enough till you showed up again."

"Hey, I' m on your side. Despite sending me and the others back to Hell. I thought we were friends."

"We were never friends, Meg!"

"True. That was more with your brother until he found out I was a demon. It hurts."

"Sam's had better relationships since."

"Ruby?"

"I was talking about Amelia."

"Ooh, cute name."

"Meg, what are you doing here?"

"Crowley wants you to come home."

"I'm not a run away, Meg."

"That's why I'm supposed to be here. To drag you back there kicking and screaming if necessary. But I want out of Crowley's circle."

"No love lost."

"No. In fact, Crowley's pretty much made me his bitch. Not liking it. I want revenge."

Dean scoffed. "Get in line, Sister."

"Oh, honey," Meg said, grinning, "I'm _first_ in line."

"Yet you're here, conspiring with us."

"Crowley's stronger than he looks."

"Don't you have experience on him, having been a demon longer?"

"Sadly, that doesn't make me stronger, just smarter. And Crowley's pretty damn smart. He's a survivalist. He knows how to tuck tail and run when push comes to shove. He refuses to fight losing battles. And without Castiel, Crowley's on the losing side."

"What else is new?" Dean muttered.

"Where's Sam?" Meg said. "Let's get the whole gang back together."

"Sam is trying to calm down Claire, last we knew," Castiel answered.

"His new girlfriend?"

"No," Dean said, "Cas' vessel's daughter."

Meg arched an eyebrow. "Castiel's a father?"

"No, I am _not_ a father! My vessel, Jimmy, is…or was…it's a little hard adjusting that I'm possessing a dead body."

"Meh."

"Yeah, you wouldn't care," Dean muttered.

Meg pointed at herself. "Dead vessel. She was a druggie. Stupid girl. Do you know what it's like possessing a super-druggie who dies from cold turkey withdrawal trying to piece her life back together? Not the most pleasant body I've possessed. But hey, a body's a body. I just prefer mine take care of themselves."

"Then why…"

"First body I came across that was too my liking. Hey, we have our preferences. We're not like angels who are limited in who they can and cannot possess. Will you relax? Her soul's long gone."

"Fair enough," Dean said. "So long as there's no living person in there, I'll let it slide. But you and the others are going back to Hell the minute we find out how to do it."

"You haven't gotten nicer, Deany."

"Don't call me Deany!"

"Shouldn't Sam and Claire have come back by now?" Castiel asked, staring at the door with a frown. "They've been gone a while."

"Does Sam have a thing for her?"

"It's Sam, Meg."

"Oh yeah," she said, "He's the gentleman. I tend to get the two of you mixed up."

Dean ignored Meg. "Yeah, it's taking too long. Where are they?" He strode to the window and cursed. "Damn it Sam!"

"What?"

"He took my car. And Claire's bike is gone."

"Bike?" Castiel asked, confused.

"Motorcycle," Dean clarified. He grabbed his phone.

#

Sam entered the bar, looking for Claire. He described her to the bartender, who shook his head.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.

"Yeah?"

"_Sam, where are you? And why did you take my car? We talked about this_."

"Claire took off. I'm trying to find her."

"_Did you have to take my car_?!"

"It's not like I'm an irresponsible driver, Dean."

"_Right, you don't douche up my car, you never let a dog ride in it, and you never stole it and went all over the country in it. Yeah, I'm overreacting._"

"Dean, she's upset and she's gone. I'm worried. Who knows what Claire will do in this situation? Let me find her and bring her back safely."

"_Claire is a hunter. She can take damn good care of herself. Get back here_."

The other end hung up and Sam sighed, turning his phone off. Perhaps Dean was right. But Sam had a strong inkling that Claire was not all right.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Claire slowed her bike to a stop outside of Westerville. She stared at angrily at the red light. How could she not be angry? After coming all this way to find her father, why couldn't he be alive?

Another biker rode up beside her and revved the engine. She looked at him and rolled her eyes looking back at the douchebag. He revved the engine again.

Claire glared at him.

"C'mon princess," he said, "Race you to Wendell's. Loser buys drinks."

Claire did feel a drink would be good. Plus, she _hated _being called "princess." She revved her engine, answering the challenge. The light turned green and they zoomed along the empty highway.

For a moment, her challenger was ahead of her, but slowly, she gained speed on him. Turning the corner, she surpassed him. Now he was trying to get back at her, pass her if possible.

The bar was just a mile ahead. She turned her blinker on and slowed, turning into the bar's parking lot.

She turned the bike off and dismounted, removing her helmet. The challenger pulled in. Once he was off his bike and his helmet under his arm. Claire didn't think he was that attractive, but he wasn't uncomely. He grinned. "So…"

"I take whiskey, extra neat," Claire said, smirking at him. He opened the door for her and she sat down at the counter. A few feet away was a man drinking a beer, perhaps having had a bad day at the office.

There were a few couples enjoying an afternoon drink with each other and their friends.

"Ryan Donovan," the man said, holding his hand out to Claire.

"Claire Novak," she said, grasping his hand. The bartender approached.

"Two whiskeys, one extra neat."

The bartender nodded and turned his back on them, turning around with two glasses and a bottle, pouring the liquid inside the glasses before leaving them be.

"What brings you to Columbus?"

"I'm looking for someone," Claire said, "I _was_," she clarified.

"You found him? Or her?"

"Him, and not exactly," she said. "He's dead."

"Sorry about your boyfriend."

Claire slumped her shoulders. "I was looking for my dad."

"Oh," he said. "God, I'm sorry. Really shouldn't jump to conclusions like that."

"A lot of people do so anyway. My dad left home about ten years ago for work. I only saw him once since. It was just me and my mom for the longest time. She passed recently from cancer. So, I figured, maybe Dad's still alive. Maybe I can get him to come home at least once before he leaves again. I found his partners, but he passed recently." Claire took a sip. "And I just over shared."

"It's a bar, I think over sharing is part of the atmosphere."

"What sob story do you have?"

"Not really a sob story," he said, grinning. He took a drink from his glass. "Let's just say that for a long time, my life has been put on hold and it was torturous. Hated it. I just got back into the game." He grinned wider. "We all did."

Claire furrowed her brow. He blinked. His eyes turned tar black. The bartender locked the door. Many of the loungers stood and stared at her. Many of them had black eyes just like Ryan's. Claire stood.

"Hello, Claire."

The man from the other end of the counter said, standing. He smirked at her and blinked. Bright red eyes stared back at her.

"Name's Crowley," he said, "King of Hell."

#

Sam turned his phone on again. Several angry messages from Dean, which he ignored, and one from an unknown number. Sam hoped it was Claire.

He called her back, returning to the Impala.

The phone answered. "Claire, where are you? I'll come pick you up."

"_Hello, Moose_," Crowley said.

Sam slowed to a stop. "Where's Claire?"

"_Safely tucked away in my pocket_," Crowley answered. "_Bring me Castiel and we'll discuss a trade_."

"I'm not making any trades."

"_Castiel knows where to go. I'll be nice: three hours. Bring Castiel. And if you're late…well, I'll let your imagination run wild_."

"Crowley, let me talk to Claire."

"_You're not in the bargaining position, right now, Sammy. Three hours. Tick. Tock._"

The phone line ended and Sam listened to the dial tone.

#

"No," Dean snapped.

"I don't want to go through this either, but Cas can take care of himself. Claire doesn't have any experience fighting demons. If she tries, they'll tear her apart."

Cas looked at Dean. "He has a point."

"You just escaped!"

"I made a promise to Jimmy and I intend to keep it. Sam and I will go after Crowley. All you guys need to do is get rid of them again.

"Crowley probably won't let Claire go," Meg said. "Hell, he'll probably take Sam also if it means you won't try to lock them away, Dean."

"You don't want to go back either, so why aren't you on Crowley's side?"

"I want to be here, yeah. No contest," Meg said, "But if the options are living in Hell with Crowley torturing me, or with you guys here, or dying, I prefer option two. But I know that you're going to lock them away again. So…I'll settle for option three after helping you. We've come a long way from being enemies."

"We still are enemies, Meg," Dean reminded her.

"Why? Because I'm a demon? I thought we got past that."

"There's no going past that."

"Okay, fine. But I'll still help you. And as much as I hate saying this, that girl needs our help. Castiel will have to go back, even though he's our only leverage against Crowley."

"Thanks, Meg."

"Don't thank me just yet," Meg said, glaring at Sam. "That girl just walked into something she shouldn't have and I'm likely to beat caution into her for this stunt."

"Cut her some slack," Sam pleaded. "Crowley saw her. It was likely that he would capture her. It's our fault for not thinking it through. We forgot how to deal with demons and ended up underestimating Crowley."

"No," Dean said, "we didn't. You went after her. You knew how dangerous it could be. Claire underestimated them." He shook his head and grabbed a beer. "Such a novice," he muttered under his breath.

"Other than having no idea how to deal with demons," Sam said, "she's not a novice. She's been hunting for several years now. That doesn't make her a novice. We have years on her, Dean. Cut her some slack. Are we going after them or not?"

"Apparently we are," Dean said. "Majority vote. Cas goes back."

"Only long enough until you lock them away again," Castiel assured him. "It's not permanent. And it will only be me and Sam."

Dean didn't look at them. Sam and Castiel glanced at Meg, who nodded at them, mentally indicating she'd stay with Dean.

Castiel and Sam left the room.

"Alright, Dean," Meg said, taking the beer bottle out of Dean's hand. "We got some shopping to do."

"Woman, I will shoot you if you don't give me back my beer."

#

Castiel and Sam arrived at Crowley's manor.

"Are you ready?" Sam asked.

"As ready as I can be. Just get Claire out. And, Sam, if anything happens to me, I want you and Dean to protect her. I trust you both to do at least that."

"Nothing's going to happen to you. But if it's any consolation, then yeah, we'll take care of her."

Sam followed Castiel into the grounds. The doors opened and they were greeted by two burly guards. They were handcuffed and gagged, so that Castiel wouldn't smite anyone and Sam wouldn't exorcise them.

They were led to a parlor and left to stand, waiting for Crowley. Sam fidgeted. Couldn't they hurry this along?

Crowley entered and sat down. "Well, boys, welcome to my home. Castiel, welcome back. Now, let's discuss our options."

"Give Claire back," Sam shouted, but the gag muffled his demand.

Crowley ignored him. "The terms of the original agreement is that you bring me Cas, I give you Claire. Really, though, Moose, bit young for you, wouldn't you say?"

Sam glared at Crowley.

"But let's discuss our options, shall we?"

Two chairs slid across the floor and knocked Sam and Castiel into them.

"The first clause is Castiel's return. Done. But I also would much appreciate it if you kept that fool brother of yours from sending me and my…subjects, I suppose, back to Hell. I know you're already working on it. Third, where's Meg? I'm sure she's come to you already. I'd like her back to."

"Why do you want Meg?" Castiel asked. But like Sam, it came out muffled.

Crowley waved his hand and the gags came undone.

"Where's Claire?"

"Why do you want Meg?"

"Boys! One at a time. Sam, do you want to know where Claire is? She's locked away safely in one of the bedrooms. No reason for her to be any more uncomfortable than she already is. Castiel. Dear, dear Castiel. Meg's come a long way in seven years. She's my second in command."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sam stared at Crowley. Castiel wore an unemotional mask. But Sam couldn't help but be an open book.

Meg? Crowley's second in command? She wouldn't have chosen that willingly. Hatred like what they have between each other doesn't die easily. If anything, it probably grew over the last few years. So why would she be his second in command?

Crowley stood. "Now, boys," he snapped his fingers and the gags returned. Two demons entered and pulled Castiel to his feet. "We'll make the transfer. Sam, sit tight."

Crowley left and the guards dragged Castiel out of the room.

Sam felt cold, had a mistake been made in following Crowley's demands?

#

"I don't like this," Dean said.

"Join the club," Meg stated, setting down the grocery bags. "This everything?"

"Save for the blood of a demon," Dean said. Meg grabbed her knife and slit her palm. Dean handed her a vial and she squeezed the blood into it. Once corked, she handed it back to him.

"Don't waste it," she snapped.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Dean unpacked the supplies while Meg sat on the couch.

"Do you have the demon-killing knife?"

"It was destroyed a long time ago. And as for the colt, it's lost again and even if it was, we don't have any bullets. Why do you want to die anyway?"

Meg didn't answer right away. Dean looked at her.

"What? You regain your humanity?"

"No," Meg said. "Not that. I've…I've been humiliated down there. Torture, that's easy. Having to pledge allegiance to someone you hate for a cause you disagree with just to end it. It's…well, it's beyond anything you can imagine. It's a complete betrayal of everything you believe in and stand for. For instance, it's like you giving up hunting and letting a horrible monster, like the leviathan for example, do whatever they please, and you don't do a thing knowing you can stop it but chose not to."

"Then why did you roll over?"

"How long did it take for you to crack? It took me a day the first time around. The second time, I lasted longer, but…still. What's worse? Getting tortured physically or betraying your stance? But hey, at least I wasn't in pain anymore."

"Coward."

"We're all cowards on a level, Dean. You're going to tell me you're not scared of anything? There is nothing that mortifies you so deeply that it can sway you to change the way you approach things to the point where you are contradicting yourself?"

Dean didn't answer.

He had a fear that strong once.

It was losing everyone in his life to Death. He was scared of Death, and Death had already taken his parents. Almost took Lisa. For a long time, he thought Castiel was taken from him. All he cared for was holding onto Sam. He was afraid of being alone with no one to keep him sane.

It still ate at him, but not as strongly as it used to. Too many people were lost already for him to be effected as strongly as before.

"Let's find another cemetery," he said.

"Like the one you had? It's dead center in a cemetery out-layed like a devil's trap. There aren't many of them."

"There has to at least be one more."

"Look, I know a spell that might be able to help us find one. You have a map?"

Dean looked at Meg scrupulously. He went to the Impala and opened the glove compartment, returning with one of his road maps of America. He handed it to her.

Meg worked her spell over the map and it light on fire. When it went out, Illinois was all that was left.

"Shall we go?"

"Where's Sam?" Dean muttered, ignoring her. "He should have been back with Claire by now."

"Yeah," Meg agreed. "At this point, I'd say Crowley's holding them all hostage. Just wait. He'll come listing more demands. And if we don't go now, we will never be able to lock them away again."

"I'm not leaving them."

"You don't have a choice!" Meg shouted. "Get the stuff and let's get in the car. I'll perform another spell in a bit. Illinois's still a lot of ground. We need to narrow it down further. Now are you going to mope and worry or are you going to be a man and come with me?"

Dean glowered at Meg. _No one_ questioned his manhood without consequence. Especially not demons. _Especially not Meg_.

"Fine, let's go," Dean muttered. He packed a back pack full of ingredients and slung the bag over his shoulders. "But when this is over, I will _not_ kill you."

"Oh," Meg said, grinning, "you'll kill me. I'll make sure of it."

"No I won't. You questioned my manhood. You're going back to Hell."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"We can keep this up all day, Dean. Stop being such a child."

#

Sam, unshackled, was led to a dining room. Castiel and Claire were already seated. He sat down beside Claire.

"What's going on?"

"You and Castiel are now hostages too."

"Shit," Sam hissed. "Okay, how do we get out?"

"We don't," Claire said. "This place is locked tighter than Fort Knox, no thanks to Castiel's previous break out."

"And we're here because…"

"Beats me," Claire said, leaning back in her chair. "Castiel, any thoughts?"

"No. This is new to me too."

The door opened and several demons entered, setting trays of food on the table. Crowley entered.

"What is this?" Claire demanded.

"Manners, Claire," Crowley reminded her, as though admonishing a child. "Now there are humans who need to eat, unlike Castiel and I. This is for your benefits," he said looking directly at Claire and Sam.

"You can't keep us all locked up in here."

"Oh, I can and I will," Crowley said. "I'll be speaking with your brother in the morning. You know, let him stew a bit—Say one word, Moose, and I'll cut out your tongue. And then I'll cut out theirs. And I'll cut off his hands. Keep the smiting minimal."

Sam closed his mouth, fighting the urge to say an exorcism, fuming.

"Good boy."

"You're a monster."

"Demon, Sweetheart. We're worse than monsters."

"True. Monsters have integrity, and there's a sort of purity to them, despite the evil inside them. They weren't evil to begin with. Demons, on the other hand, were evil even when they were human. You all deserve Hell for all the evil you caused in life and death."

Sam and Castiel stared at Claire. Crowley arched an eyebrow, smirking at her.

"I did my research."

"I'm impressed. Smart girl like yourself, why are you a hunter? Let me guess: Daddy issues. I think the Winchesters knew a girl like you before. She died, following her father's footsteps. Couldn't handle the life as well as she thought she could. Went out in a bang with Mommy."

"Don't you dare talk about Jo and Ellen," Sam hissed.

"I'm just stating the facts. You're the ones who botched the mission that got them killed." He looked at Claire again. "Don't worry, sweetie, you've lasted this long. You've lasted much longer than her. There's hope for you yet."

Sam shook with rage. Claire and Castiel remained the paragons of calm.

"Go ahead and eat."

"I'm not hungry," Claire said, crossing her arms.

Crowley smirked. "I like you."

"Bite me."

"Claire, shut up," Castiel suggested.

#

"It should be this way," Meg said. "How much time do we have?"

Dean looked at the sky. "Midnight tonight. It's too late—or early. Whichever you prefer."

"So we can set this up?"

"No, not yet. It has to be…uh…'on the cusp of high night.'"

"Leave it to God to be cryptic."

"Yep, I know what you mean. At least we're allowed to interpret," Dean said. "We can't stay here, but at least we know where it is. Let's find a motel. Stay there for the night."

"Fine," Meg said, hoisting the bag back on her shoulders. "I saw one nearby. Let's go."

#

Claire didn't sleep.

She stared out the window, contemplating the possibility of escape. It wouldn't be wise, especially without a defensive motive, which she didn't have.

The clock on the bedside table read seven-thirty when the door opened and a woman entered, setting clothes down on the bed.

"There's a shower over there," she said, pointing at an adjoining door. "Take care of it quickly. The king requests you join him for breakfast."

"He doesn't eat."

"But you do."

The demon left. Claire picked up the clothes she had been given and wrinkled her nose at the dress. She decided to wear her current clothes instead.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

As she prepared for breakfast (since she didn't think it was wise to defy the King of Hell), Claire pondered why Crowley had taken an interest in her.

Perhaps it had something to do with her relationship to Castiel and the Winchesters.

Or perhaps it had more to do that he showed interest before. She didn't recognize him at the bar—because he had possessed someone at the time, obviously.

Claire had finished tying her hair back when the door opened.

"You were supposed to wear the dress," the demon woman snapped.

"I don't do dresses," Claire said, crossing her arms. "They're cumbersome." She strode past the woman and out the door, heading toward the dining room. The woman walked beside her.

She entered the dining room. Crowley was staring out the window.

"Okay, I'm here," she snapped. "What do you want?"

"It's not what I want that is under scrutiny this morning, Claire," Crowley answered moving away from the window. "I invited you here to ask you what _you _want."

"Why would that matter to me?"

"Well," Crowley said, "perhaps I can help."

"You want me to make a deal with you?"

"I don't see why I can't. It does depend on what it is you want."

"You can't bring back the dead."

"No, I can't."

"I didn't think so."

"Out of curiosity, who is it you want back from the dead? Your mother? Or is it your father? Didn't you find out he died quite recently, though his body is still walking about with an angel using it?" Claire blinked. "I may not be able to bring your dad back for a brief moment. The two of you can talk."

"That's a simple spell. Even I can perform it. I don't need your help if my dad's soul has crossed on."

Crowley chuckled. "Your dad didn't die of conventional means. The usual spells may not work."

"I'm not giving you my soul," Claire said, her hand rising to her throat where her cross hung. "It belongs to another and no one else can have it."

Crowley arched an eyebrow. "You're a true woman of the Cross. Impressive. People of your caliber are rare these days. I've been looking for a challenge."

"Thank you," Claire said, sitting down. "Then you know that nothing you offer me will be enough to make me want anything from you."

"Of course," Crowley said, sitting across from her. "Can't blame a demon for trying."

"Definitely not. And you'll continue trying, if I know anything about demons."

Crowley smirked. He was relishing this, Claire figured.

"Go ahead," Crowley said, waving his hand at the food. "Eat."

#

Dean stared out the window. Snow was blanketing the ground. And the Impala was turning from black to white.

Meg returned, trampling snow into the room. "Have you ever gone through a day so long?"

"Once or twice," Dean muttered. "They never get easier."

"I hate snow," she growled.

"It won't get in the way of what we need to do." Dean stood, walking to the table where a plate of microwave lasagna waited for him.

"Good," Meg said, removing her coat and shoes.

"Still want to die after all this?"

"Not after," Meg stated, "Before. I have nothing to fight for. No purpose. I'd rather be dead."

"Fine with me," Dean said. "How do you intend to do it though? We don't have the knife. The Colt is only God knows where…"

"I was hoping Castiel would be willing to smite me."

"Well, there's always that," Dean said. "But there's one little problem—"

"You don't have to remind me," Meg snapped.

Dean shrugged, his face stuffed with lasagna. Meg wrinkled her nose at him.

"Sorry excuse of a man," she muttered under her breath.

"I've been looking for you two."

Dean almost choked on his food, scrambling off the chair. Meg just looked up.

"Crowley," Meg muttered.

"Meg."

Dean swallowed. "Where's Sam and Claire?"

"Safe," Crowley assured him. "Now, I'm guessing you're going to lock me and the others away again. What if I told you that to do so would mean forfeiting the life of the rest of your little family?"

"That's perspective for you," Meg mumbled sarcastically.

Dean turned off the lights. He and Meg looked up. Crowley shook his head and looked up. "Again? Really?"

"Bring them all back. Cas, Sam, and Claire," Dean demanded.

"Or what?" Crowley barked. "What can you do? You're all rusty and flabby to a point without us here to keep you on your toes."

"If it means even one _less _son of a bitch on earth," Dean shot back, "then I'd rather get fat!"

"And that didn't come out the way it was supposed to," Meg muttered. She shook her head. "No. It didn't come out right."

"That'd be something. Like it or not, Dean, you need us."

"No, we don't. Earth's been better off since all demonic assholes were locked away in Hell."

"Dean, I suggest two things: one, agree to my terms. Your family will be safe so long as you stand down. Two, let me out of here."

"Or what?"

An invisible force rammed into Dean knocking him onto the ground and pinning him there.

"I think my dog speaks for himself."

Dean grunted, trying to push the hell hound off him. He felt a large tongue lick his face.

"Geroff!" he demanded, trying to shove the dog off. It only laid down on top of him, getting comfortable.

Crowley laughed. "I think he likes you, Dean. Careful, what he likes tends to get ripped apart. I'd think quickly."

Dean glared at Crowley. "Meg," he grunted. "Let him out."

"Wise choice."

"Dean, I wouldn't do it."

"I would," Crowley reminded her. "And I'll deal with you later, Meg." Meg took a knife and approached the trap, scratching the paint off. Once it had peeled and broken, Crowley stepped out.

"Your dog," Dean said. "Call him off."

"And about my other request?"

Dean stared at Crowley.

"How about I give you a little more perspective," he said, approaching Dean and scratching the hound behind the ears, kneeling down. "That little girl, Claire, I like her. She'll be the first to go. Slowly, painfully. Have you any idea how euphoric it would be to see that pretty and stoic face twisted in pain?"

"You leave her alone!"

"How about Sam, then? I've a bunch of old devices—a collection, you could say. Many of my toys are from the Spanish Inquisition. Creative bunch, the inquisitors."

Dean pushed on the hell hound's ribs.

"Should I go on? Let's see, what do I have planned for Castiel? He'd be difficult, being an angel. If he was human, it'd be easy…"

"Okay!" Dean grunted. "Okay."

"Dean, what are you saying?" Meg snapped.

"What was that, Dean?" Crowley asked, smirking. "I didn't quite catch that."

"I promise not to send you back to hell," Dean said through grit teeth. "But if you so much as touch one hair on their heads—"

"Understood." Crowley said. "Shall we seal the deal?"

Dean tried kicking the hound off, but his legs were as pinned as his body.

"Crowley," Meg snapped. Crowley looked at her. "I've another proposition." She splashed him. His skin smoked and reddened. The dog jumped off and tackled Meg, who jumped away and splashed holy water on the beast as well.

"Dean! Send him to Hell!" She grabbed a water gun from under the table and spraying both the hell hound and Crowley.

Dean jumped to his feet.

"_Regna terrae, cantate Deo,_" Dean shouted. "_P__sallite Domino qui fertis super caelum caeli ad Orientem ecce dabit voci Suae vocem virtutis, tribuite virtutem Deo. Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. _

"_Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te. Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis._ _Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt. _

"_Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos. Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris, te rogamus, audi nos. Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae te rogamus, audi nos._ _Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo._ _Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem et fortitudinem plebi Suae. Benedictus Deus. Gloria Patri!"_

Crowley shouted and vanished in black smoke. The whimpering dog also went with him in a wave of smoke.

Dean and Meg exchanged looks.

"What now?"

"I'll go get the stragglers," Meg said, vanishing.

Dean sat down at the table, he stared at the lasagna and pushed it away, his appetite—much to his chagrin—had disappeared.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Castiel sat on the recliner, staring outside the window.

The snow was falling down faster and faster, thicker and thicker.

His thoughts wandered to Dean, then Claire. He pondered a new escape plan. He'd have to be more thoughtful about it this time through, since Claire and Sam would have to come with him this time.

Castiel stood and paced the room, pondering situation to situation.

Each had its flaws. And each was trumped by a new plan that had perhaps as many flaws as the next.

If he went for Claire first, Sam would be heavily guarded. If he went for Sam first, Claire would be heavily guarded. If he appeared in their rooms, they'd be stopped before they could get out of the manor.

Castiel sighed, exasperated. He sat back down and prayed for a solution.

The door opened.

"Hey, Clarence, why so moody?"

Castiel looked at Meg, confused.

"What are you doing here? You should be with Dean trying to—"

"We can't do that till tonight," she said. "Are you coming or not? Who knows how long it will take for Crowley to get back from Hell."

"What?"

"Dean exorcised him," she summarized.

"Oh. What about Sam and Claire?"

"Already got them," she said. Castiel stood and followed her out. The demons glared at them as they passed.

"Is it just me—"

"No," Meg whispered. "It's not. I'm not that popular with the rest of the girls for being Prom Queen."

"Please, clarify."

"Do I have to? It makes me sick thinking about it."

"Fine, don't, but you're sure we just need to walk out?"

"They won't attack," she hissed. "If Crowley's not here, I'm the acting leader until he returns."

Castiel furrowed his brow, but didn't press any more questions. Sam and Claire were waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. Their hands were bound behind their backs and their mouths gagged.

Another demon grabbed Castiel's wrists and pinned them behind his back, locking them together with cuffs. Then he too was gagged.

"You'll have to forgive the treatment," Meg said to them, "Can't have any trouble on the way to your new prison. Come on."

They were led outside. Meg gave the lackeys leading them coordinates and they vanished, reappearing in a motel room. The confused demons looked at Meg, who smirked while Dean recited a quick exorcism.

Sam, Claire, and Castiel jumped out of the traps and Meg unlocked their wrists.

Once the exorcisms were complete, the bodies thudded to the ground.

"How much time do we have left?" Sam asked.

"Three hours," Dean said. "You guys all right?"

"As all right as can be expected," Claire said, rubbing her wrists. "You two are idiots for coming. How could you not tell it was a trap? I could have handle Crowley."

"Cut them some slack, Sweetie," Meg said. "They're men. That's what they do. They think they're chivalric, but they're all just idiots." Sam glared at Meg. She blinked at him. "What? It's true."

"Misandrist," Dean muttered.

"Chauvinist," Meg snapped back.

"I'm not chauvinist!"

"And I'm not misandrist. Telling the truth is not the same as misandry."

"What is wrong with being chivalric?" Sam snapped.

"Other than chivalry is a form of chauvinism?" Claire asked.

"Can we stop debating gender studies and take care of the real problem at hand?" Castiel snapped. They stared at him.

"All vote for Cas' solution?" Sam asked, raising his hand. Three other hands rose into the air.

"But this isn't over," Dean said.

Claire and Meg stuck their tongues at him.

"Women…"

"What?!"

"Dean," Castiel snapped, "Drop it."

#

The night was clear and cold. The icy air bit their skin and stung their throats when they breathed in. Claire shivered. It had been cold, but not this cold.

With numb fingers, Sam drew a devil's trap with graveyard dirt, littered on the snow laden lawn. Claire set up candles at each point of the trap. Meg lit them.

"That's it?" Castiel asked.

"No," Sam said. "We need different kinds of blood."

"Could you clarify?" Meg asked.

"About a drop from each of the following," Sam said. "The demon, the damned, the righteous, the angel, and the virgin."

"What differentiates the demon and the damned? And while we're at that, what differentiates the righteous and the angel?"

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "He's damned," Sam said.

"And he's righteous," Dean said, nudging Sam.

"Ah. And our virgin?"

"Me," Claire said. Dean stared at her, bewildered. "Really? You're looking at me like I'm a sea urchin? Is my being a virgin offensive to you? Well, no wonder you're the damned, pervert."

"I prefer party boy," Dean said, smirking.

Claire wrinkled her nose, disgusted. "You're repulsive. I value spirituality above sexuality."

"You need to learn how to have fun."

"There are plenty of fun things to do that don't involve fornication."

"Will the virgin and the damned get back into their corners?" Meg shouted. Claire and Dean glared at her, but she ignored them.

Meg slit her palm and let bled onto the candle, passing the knife to Castiel.

Once everyone had bled on their candle, Sam began to chant in a dead language that sounded vaguely like Hebrew or Arabic.

The wind blew faster, howling around them, but the candles held their flame. The moon was blocked by clouds rushing at them.

Meg collapsed.

"Castiel!" she shouted. "Now! Please! Kill me!" Castiel helped her up and pressed his palm against her forehead. "Thank you," she gasped before imploding.

Her body dropped to the ground, lying there, motionlessly.

"Grab onto something!" Sam shouted, seizing Claire's wrist. Castiel and Dean raced for the tree. Sam and Claire braced themselves behind a headstone. Demons tried to seize them and drag them down into hell.

The headstone broke and Claire shrieked, tearing at the grass. Sam jumped at her, grabbing her wrist again, his legs curled around a poll.

"Don't let go!" Claire shrieked. "Don't let go!"

"I'm not letting go!" Sam promised, "Give me your other hand!"

Claire stretched her free hand out and Sam took it in his free hand, pulling Claire back. He wrapped his arms around the poll and Claire latched her arms around his waist, breathing heavily.

With howls and shrieks, the gates closed and the wind died down. The clear sky was a welcome sight.

Dean and Castiel came out from behind the tree, a little shaken, but otherwise alright.

"Sam? Claire? You guys okay?" Dean asked.

"We're fine," Sam said, standing. Claire refused to let go, shaking so violently, she could barely stand.

"How you doing, Princess?" Dean teased. "Challenging enough for you?"

"Don't call me Princess," Claire tried to snap, but it came out shaky and quiet. "How did you manage to do that last time? No demon would have agreed to do before."

"No," Sam said, "we stole blood from one last time. And another angel helped us out."

"Let's get out of here," Dean suggested. He and Castiel walked back toward the car. Sam led Claire after them.

"Wait!" Claire shouted. They stopped and turned to look at her. "My Dad."

"Claire, we were telling the truth. Your dad passed away."

"But Castiel is still inside my Dad. Are you even allowed to possess the dead?"

"It's never been done before, I admit, but I suppose it can happen."

"But you _can't _possess the dead. The dead can't give permission. If my dad was really dead, you'd have been expelled from his body. I did the research."

"Times change, so do the rules," Castiel said. "I haven't heard from your father since I returned."

"Did you hear from him even when you knew he was alive?"

"No, not always."

Claire released Sam and walked toward Castiel. She grabbed his coat. "Dad? Daddy?"

Castiel groaned, stepping back.

"Cas?"

"Cas, what's wrong?"

He fell to the ground, clutching his head.

"Castiel," Claire said, kneeling down on the ground. "Please, let me talk to my dad."

"Hey, Princess." His voice was a little higher, less throaty. "I don't have a lot of time before Castiel takes over again."

Claire embraced him, weeping. "Daddy."

"I missed you to," Jimmy said, stroking Claire's hair. "I wish I could have been there for you."

"It's okay. It's okay."

Dean and Sam exchanged looks.

_We got to go._

_Give them a moment,_ Sam thought back._ Then we'll go._


End file.
